Catch Your Breath
by lovesick.hufflepuff
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have both struggle with death after the wizarding war. After a traumatic night terror, Draco takes a step to end things for himself, and only Harry can save him. Secrets, beyond their mental health, are revealed, leaving them both scarred.
1. Foreward

**Foreword**

Harry Potter May have escaped death not once but twice, but accepting death has been something he has thought about a lot after the wizarding war. He may have defeated the all-powerful Lord Voldemort, but that shall forever be on his conscious along with the deaths of his family, friends and all others who lost their lives for him. However, every time he gets close to the edge, he has his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger to bring him back to stable ground. And Harry is thankful for that.

Draco Malfoy has seen just as much death, felt just as much pain and shares the same feelings as Harry. Yet, Harry has one thing that Draco does not, and it could be the difference between life and death.

Draco doesn't have a Ron or Hermione.

So if Draco starts to careen over the edge, no one will be there to stop him from falling. No one will stop the hurt. No one will stop the crash of the waves, the storm in his ears, the air from escaping his eyes.

No one will help him catch his breath.


	2. Crying

**Draco**

_The air around him grew cold. He sucked in a breath to be greeted with a shot of pain through his head, throat and lungs. His eyes were open, yet unseeing in the darkness of the landscape. His forehead pounded, the knowledge of him passing out soon setting over him like needles. _

_"Draco!" A familiar voice called from behind him._

_He whirled to see Harry Potter, flooded by light, pointing his wand ominously at him. _

_"H-rghh!" Was all Draco could get out before the last of his carefully rationed air floated out. He panicked, pumping his arms and legs to help nine get somwhere- anywhere where he could breathe._

_Harry cocked his head to the side and grinned a sickening grin. "Looks like your time has run out. This will make things that much easier," his voice slowly started to change, morphing into the deep, raspy voice of the dark lord Draco so blindly followed the previous year. "It's such a pity you want out so soon. My! You have so much to live for my boy. Suit yourself..."_

_His voice rose to a scream, shouting the incantation for the killing curse as a bolt of green shot towards him. It ripples as if moving through water. _

_As if... moving through water..._

Draco sat up with a gasp.

He leaped out of his bed before realizing where he was in the eighth year dormitory. Panting, he stood there for a second before collapsing on the old, wooden floor with a loud thump. Tears streamed down his face in a flurry of emotions. Sobbing softly, he tucked his legs to his bare chest, feeling the sweat and tear blend together.

Draco looked up to the sound of someone stirring in their bed. In the darkness, he could only see the black, disheveled hair of whoever leaned towards their bedside table. They muttered _lumos_ under their breath and swept a hand over their face, as if putting on a pair of glasses. Emerald eyes searched the dormitory until resting on him. Of bloody course.

It just had to be Harry fucking Potter.

Draco stood up, dimly aware of his own body movements, turned on his heel and ran. Ran out of the dormitory, out of the common room and sprinted down the corridor, ignoring the protest of each and every painting along the walls. He collided with the door to the eighth year lavatory (which up until this year was y prefects lavatory) and again collapsed, back against the door, inside.

He sat there, with tears streaming down his face in rivets, for the better part of an hour. Thoughts that he really

_(moving through water)_

just wanted to forget kept reoccurring. Thoughts about the abuse he received, thoughts of last year and Harry's near death escape pained him, yet kept coming back, regardless of what he did. A thought, so different from the rest, scared

_(want out so quickly)_

him, but he couldn't resist toying with the idea, either. If he went for only a five minute bath, he would be

_(avadaaaaa kedaavrrraaa)_

rid of all pain, all the suffering. It's not like anyone would miss him. No one needed him. He would be free, and no one would give a shit whether he missed potions the next day.

It was decided; Draco stripped himself of his clothes and stepped into the grand, tile bathtub. As the bath started to fill with water, and he mustered all the strength a cowardly Slytherin could, he couldn't help but that even the sirens, who sat on the stained glass windows, decided to look away.

Draco evaluated his surroundings, wondering what could have ever seemed desirable about his life. He touched his chest gingerly, right above his heart, and traced the lighting bolt scar left there by his father. Draco smirked.

"The only thing that I'm going to miss about my shitty life is the fact that I got to see Harry Potter every single fucking day," Draco muttered, raising his head to look at the ceiling and started to shout. "You hear that Potter? I'm sorry! I'm sorry for all the awful shit I did to you over the years! I'm sorry for everything I've ever done! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Tears flooded Draco's cheeks once again. He looked down at the water. Slowly, he whispered, "I'm sorry for loving you," and submerged himself in the warm water- not once coming up for air during those five minutes.


	3. Burning

**Harry**

_He was burning. Every inch, every pore, every cell was on fire. Light exploded you of his body, lessening the pain to a heavy throbbing. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, and feel it thump in every part of his body. The light created a globe-like shape, completely surrounding his body. Beyond the globe, however, everything was dark._

_Harry saw something move in the distance. Immediately, who knew not just what, but _who_ it was. It had nothing to do with the pale skin or hair, the sharp cut of their shoulders or their smooth complexion, but the fact that Harry has dreamt about the same person for months. The same person who he has loved for years. The same person who hated his very guts._

_The painfully lovely, Draco Malfoy._

_Harry attempts to move towards the other boy, but a searing pain shoots through his forehead, right over his scar._

_"Draco!" He yelled, unable to think of another answer._

_The boy in the darkness turned around, said something and choked. He clutched at his throat, the obvious pain ripping through him._

_Harry reached his arm out, only to notice that the destroyed Elder Wand was restored and sitting in his very palm. It's tip was pointed right at Draco's heart._

_Harry's lips started moving, and he panicked. The words that came out of his mouth were not at all what he wanted to say, and was not his voice. He has heard that voice to often not to recognize it. It was Voldemort's, deep and raspy with a fire put out by the cold of his tone. _

_"Looks like your time has run out. This will make things that much easier," Draco's eyes grew, and Harry couldn't help but panic. "It's such a pity you want out so soon. My! You have so much to live for my boy! Suit yourself..."_

What the fuck?_ Harry thought, the words coming out of his mouth making absolutely no sense. It wasn't until his hand made the lightning shape motion, and the killing curse incantation left his lips did he know what his intentions were. Harry couldn't breathe. The burst of green rippled towards Draco, breaking and parting as if moving through water._

_As if... moving through water..._

Harry awoke to a loud thump.

He kept his eyes closed, desperately trying to ignore the images that flashed behind his eyelids. He convinced himself that a textbook, transfiguration perhaps, fell off a bed and struck the floor.

That was, until the sobs began.

Soft, hitching sobs. Desperate and weak. Isolated and self-loathed. There was only one person in the entire world who could cry all those things at once. Lucky for Harry, he's heard it before. In a lavatory, post duel, post pain.

He sat up, not wanting to startle the cowering Draco, and reached for his wand, then glasses on his bedside table.

"_Lumos_," Harry muttered, as he put on his glasses. Disoriented by the bright light, his eyes searched the dormitory, forgetting exactly where he was. His eyes eventually landed on Draco, and his heart dropped into his stomach at the sight.

He was startling pale- the black circles under his eyes seemed like hollows in his usually stunning face. He was tucked into a ball beside his bed, knees tucked to his chest, and Harry could see the tears on his face collide with the sweat on his chest. His blue eyes were piercing, as he looked at Harry with a look of surprise and hatred. Harry nearly cried at the view.

Suddenly, Draco stood up, and ran. Harry leaped out of his four-poster bed and took off after him. He sprinted down the stairs to the common room, and out into the corridor. By the time he made it out, though, Draco was no where to be seen.

He walked back into the common room, and placed his hands on his knees, suddenly feeling very out of breath. After a moment, Harry stood back up and surveyed his surroundings. The fire was still burning steadily, a few torches were still lit, and there was plenty of blankets crowded on the tiny couch near the fire. Deciding to stay awake and wait for Draco to come back, he walked over to the kitchenette in the back corner, and started to make two teas- one for himself, and one for Draco, whenever he decided to return.

Harry sat down onto the overstuffed couch, and stared deeply into the fire. His eyes prickled, staring directly into the heat, but he did not cry, no. He thought back to the many times he sat on a similar couch in the Gryffindor common room, and chuckled. _I can't believe it, _Harry though. _Even on the worst days, there was always something we could smile about. Full of resentment, Harry couldn't help but wish that he was back in those days, the days when he went by blissfully unaware. _

His eyes started to swim in and out of focus. His eyelids started to drop, and his head fall to his left side. He was falling asleep.

_No..._ Harry thought. _I... I need to wait..._

Harry's eyes flashed open, but he lost view of the common room. He sucked in a sharp breath of surprise, and he choked. He choked on water. His surroundings came into view, he seemed to be under pale water, staring up at the surface. Colourful tiles could be see just above the surface. Harry tried to move, but found his body blinded still. Without his knowledge, a pale hand floated in front of his eyes. He glanced down, taking in all parts of it to understand where he was. On the wrist was a coiling serpent slithering out of a dark skull, completely still. A dark mark.

_Draco,_ Harry though, knowing exactly who this arm belonged to. _I need to..._

Just as it started, the vision finished, leaving Harry breathless.


	4. Sinking

**Draco**

He was finally out of air, and sinking rapidly. He started to see black spots, and panicked. Yet, he couldn't move. His body felt like it weighed thousands of pounds. As he moved closer to the bottom, and towards certain death, he could only think of one thing.

_Harry._


End file.
